


The New Campaign

by amythis



Category: Who's the Boss?
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-09
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-25 12:38:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4960942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amythis/pseuds/amythis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony helps Angela with her lingerie account.  Set very late in the sixth season but eliminating "The All-Nighter" episode.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Angela sighed in frustration. She had hoped this account would be easier to work on at home than at the agency. But she just couldn’t come up with the right angle for the campaign.  


After awhile she realized that the problem was she had two different markets she was trying to please. Two very distinct demographic groups: women and men. Women buy lingerie for themselves. Transvestites aside, men usually buy lingerie for their wives or girlfriends.  


“Well,” she said aloud, “let’s focus on women first. I’m a woman. What kind of ad would appeal to me?” The answer to that was something only slightly suggestive. Something romantic.  


She looked over at the pile of silk and lace in all different colors. The client had been very good about supplying free samples. He even got them in her size. She didn’t think he was flirting with her. He was too matter-of-fact about it, like he’d have done it for anyone.  


She hadn’t planned to wear any of it of course. But now she was wondering.  


“After all, I ate Guacamunchies, noxious as they were, so that I could market them correctly. I like to use products when I can. And maybe I’ll feel more inspired if I try some of this stuff on.”  


It wasn’t that she had anything against lingerie. She loved to buy sexy underwear, even when she had no one to show it to. (Which had been true for three years, a fact she didn’t want to dwell on.) It just felt funny to do this as research. But it was either this or ask the client to send over something in her mother’s size, and that would be too embarrassing to hear Mona Robinson’s observations about lingerie.  


She sighed and rummaged through the pile. She murmured, “Pastel pink. That’s Tony’s favorite color on me.” Then she blushed. It wasn’t as if Tony was going to see her in it.  


Then she realized that it would help her get in the right frame of mind if she pretended she was dressing for a man. And this was not only the color she wore the night of their anniversary dinner and the night of their “first date,” but it was also of course a very soft, feminine, delicate color. She might feel more daring later and try on the red, or even the black. But this was a good color to start out with.  


So she gathered up a couple handfuls of pink and took them into the downstairs bathroom.  


***  


Tony sighed in relief. With Art History cancelled for the day, that gave him more time to study for his other classes. He debated whether to go to the library or just head home. Well, the kids wouldn’t be back from school for a few hours, and Angela not till a couple hours after that. And this way he could get a snack while he studied.  


He was surprised but not disappointed to see Angela in the living room. “Hey, I thought you were still in the city.”  


“Um, I decided to work from home the rest of the day. I thought you were in class.”  


“It was canceled, so I figured I’d come home and study.”  


“I see.”  


He sat down on the couch next to her and set his textbook on the table. “Whatcha workin’ on?”  


“A new campaign.”  


“Yeah, I figured. Can I see?”  


“Oh, it’s very rough so far.”  


“That’s OK. I like works in progress.”  


“Well, all right.” She handed over a storyboard.  


“Lingerie? Nice. I mean, nice composition and everything. Cute slogan.”  


“Thank you.”  


“So did they give you free samples?” he joked.  


She blushed. Hm. But maybe it was just because they were talking about underwear. They tended not to, unless it was in terms of laundry.  
He handed the storyboard back. “Well, I’ll let you get back to work and I’ll just—”  


“Tony, maybe you could help me.”  


“Uh, with your campaign?”  


“Yes. You see, that’s the part of the campaign appealing to women.”  


“Yeah, that makes sense.” It was very arty, soft-focus, romantic.  


“But studies have shown that a large percentage of purchasers of lingerie are men.”  


“Well, maybe in San Francisco.”  


“No, I mean men purchasing it for their wives and girlfriends.”  


“Oh, yeah, that makes sense.” He suddenly imagined buying some for her. But that would be really inappropriate, since she wasn’t his wife or girlfriend. Yeah, they’d talked about her maybe being one or the other someday, but just in the abstract. She was his boss and you generally don’t buy your boss lingerie. “The thing is, I don’t have a wife or girlfriend.”  


“Well, no, but you’ve had them in the past. And you can give me the typical male perspective.”  


“You think I’m a typical male?” He wasn’t sure if he should be insulted or not.  


“Well, you’re the closest thing to it in the house right now.”  


“Well, yeah.”  


“So how would you react to your wife or girlfriend wearing lingerie?”  


“How would I react?” They were getting into dangerous territory all of a sudden. He knew he should say he was going to do his homework and head upstairs. But maybe he could keep it vague. “Well, I’d be happy of course.”  


“Can you be more specific?”  


“No, sorry. I mean, I would need something specific to react to. Like the free samples.” Maybe he could joke his way out of this.  


“Oh, I see.”  


***  


Angela couldn’t believe she was thinking this way. Tony had made it clear time and time again, most emphatically last summer in Jamaica, that there were certain lines that he didn’t want to cross with her, “not until, not unless” they were married. And they couldn’t get married until he was surer of his future. Yes, he’d since chosen a major and a goal (education), but he was still her housekeeper, and that had always been more of a barrier for him than for her.  


Yes, they’d kissed often, sometimes quite passionately, but they hadn’t taken it beyond that. And this would be taking it at least a little beyond. Still, she could retreat into the guise of market researcher if he again backed off.  


“Well, how would you react if you came home and found out your wife or girlfriend was wearing lingerie?”  


She watched his face, waiting to see if he’d guess. But the question seemed to catch him very much off guard and he didn’t seem to know how to interpret it.  


“What? Like just sitting around watching TV in her underwear?”  


She blushed a little. And then she took the next leap. “No, like under her clothes.”  


His eyes widened and then narrowed. “Oh. That could be very sexy. And how exactly would I find that out?”  


“Well, maybe she’d lean forward a little and you’d catch a glimpse down her blouse.” She leaned forward and straightened the portfolio. She could feel him trying not to look. Damn, this wasn’t going to work! She was only making a fool of herself.  


“Well, uh, no offense to Marie and several of my ex-girlfriends, but if we’d already—I mean, it would have to be somebody I hadn’t seen, you know.”  


“You mean there would have to be a sense of mystery.”  


“Yeah, I mean, don’t get me wrong. It’d be great to see my wife or steady girlfriend in lingerie if it was like in the bedroom some night. But under the clothes? That would have to be someone that’s new to me. In that way.”  


She nodded. “Something a little forbidden, naughty.”  


“Uh, right. You know, where I’m not sure if I should be looking down her blouse at this point. Where I’m waiting for a signal.”  


“A signal?”  


“Yeah, like an undone button or two.”  


“I see.” That didn’t exactly sound like he was going to back away. So she undid a button, or two.  


“Mmm, yeah. Uh, I mean, you know, speaking as the typical male, we’re very visual.”  


“And what do you see now, Tony?”  


***  


He wasn’t sure if he could verbalize this. He could barely believe he was seeing it. This couldn’t all be for research purposes could it? Was she setting out to seduce him? Was there even really a campaign? And did he really care if there wasn’t?  


He saw the diamond solitaire necklace she almost always wore, now lying half inside her opened pale blue silk blouse, shining against her soft-looking skin. He could see her cleavage and the edges of a pale pink bra.  


“Soft,” he murmured.  


She laughed. “Are your senses blurring? You see softness?”  


“Yeah, Angela,” he said a little irritably. Then more quietly he said, “It looks soft.”  


“If I were your new girlfriend, would you want to find out if it’s soft?”  


“I would at least want to undo another button. Or two.”  


“Show me,” she whispered.  


“Well, in the interests of market research.” He started at her neck though, one hand lightly tracing along her throat, then down to her collar. And then along the edges of her blouse, his fingers pulling gently at her necklace for a couple moments before moving on. And then he undid a button.  


Now he could see more of her bra, not just the lace but more of the cups. And then he undid another button. He could see all of it, especially because the blouse was starting to fall off her shoulders.  


“Bellissima,” he murmured. He’d seen her in swimsuits, so this wasn’t really more, or less, than that, but that was on the beach, in Jamaica or Mexico, with tons of tourists around. This was just for him, and it was beautiful.  


“You like this design?”  


So they were still playing. “Yeah, very well designed.”  


“Can you help me test the design?”  


He raised his eyebrows. “Test it?”  


“Yes, you see it’s a front-fastener.”  


“Oh. Those can be challenging.”  


“Yes.”  


“You want me to see if the typical man can undo it?”  


“Yes, please.”  


“Well, you know, Angela, I’m a little handier than the average man.”  


“You want me to get a man in here who’s not as good with his hands?”  


“No, that’s OK.” He didn’t want any other man to see her like this, ever. Even though he had no right to want that. But he suddenly realized, if he didn’t make his move, she might not wait around for him forever.  


And so he made his move. He unhooked her bra in one smooth, steady motion. “A mere bag of shells,” he said, snapping his fingers.  


“Nice work, Tony. But you haven’t told me whether or not the bra is as soft as it looks.”  


“Oh, yeah, sorry.” He caressed the bra but he couldn’t care less about it at this point. It was only blocking what he really wanted to touch, to see. He peeled the cups aside to reveal her indeed very soft-looking and soft-feeling pink breasts, paler than the bra, with nipples of a darker, richer pink.  


***  


She’d done it. She’d crossed the line. And he’d responded. Whatever else happened, this was further than they’d gone before. But she couldn’t help wondering how much further they’d go.  


“What would the typical man do next?”  


“If his girlfriend or other special lady that he’d never seen like this before looked like you, he’d do this.”  


His light touches turned to firm squeezes. Her nipples hardened instantly. She could try to keep her voice normal, but she couldn’t hide that her body responded to his touch. She’d imagined this so many times.  


“And if she liked it—”  


“I think she would.” She leaned back and arched her chest.  


“Then he might do this.” He nuzzled her chest and then softly kissed each breast. “Do you think she would like that?”  


“Yes,” she breathed.  


“Then he might do this.” He undid another button and moved her bra further out of the way. Then he cupped her breasts in his hands and began slowly, carefully kissing them. He started in the cleavage and then moved outward and then back in. He never quite made it to the nipples, which started to drive her a little crazy.  


She soon realized he was doing this deliberately, teasing her. So she tried to be patient.  


Then he said, “I think if he came home and found out she was wearing a bra like this, he’d want to suck her tits real bad.”  


She gasped at his crudity but it also turned her on. Tony was usually such a gentleman around her. Even when they flirted, it was light, classy.  


“I think if he kept kissing her breasts like that, she’d almost demand it.”  


He looked up at her. “Almost?” He licked her right nipple, which despite its solidity, danced easily with his tongue.  


“Definitely.”  


“What if she’s a classy lady who doesn’t demand things like that?”  


“She might, mmm, she might lose a little control if he—Oh, Tony!” Now he was squeezing the left nipple with his fingertips.  


“You like that?”  


“Yes! Please, Tony, please!”  


“Please what, Angela?”  


“I can’t—” She was never good at dirty talk. She was not her mother’s daughter in that regard.  


“Think about your campaign, Angela. You told me advertising sometimes uses indirect language.”  


She couldn’t think that clearly. All she could say was, “Please, Tony, you know what I want!”  


“Do I?” his words teased. But then he began sucking on her right breast, his tongue caressing her nipple, his hand cupping her from underneath. And his other hand squeezed and teased her other breast.  


He was so good, sogoodsogoodsogood! He knew exactly how to do this. She tried not to think of all the women he must’ve practiced on, some of whom she’d met. But he was also doing it like she had the most special breasts in the world.  


***  


Mmm, she was amazing! So sensitive, so responsive, so soft, except these hard nipples. He wondered how often he’d made them hard before. He was pretty sure about Jamaica but the rest was just guesswork. Well, he was definitely getting to her now.  


And she was getting to him. What had he gotten himself in for? Could he just keep it to her pleasure, leave himself out of it as much as possible? Well, his mouth and hands were having a great time, but none of this second-base stuff was any kind of commitment, right? Maybe they’d see each other differently, as they had after Jamaica, and after some other close calls, but it wasn’t yet anywhere near what he’d meant by “what this is leading to” or the kind of thing that might make them lose each other as friends. They were just having a little fun, right?  


But he knew he was kidding himself. Just like he’d spent five and a half years trying to forget he’d seen her naked stepping out of the tub (but remembered it vividly when Mona told the census guy last week), he knew he would never forget how her breasts felt against his lips and his tongue. He would never forget what it was like to suck her tits.  


She squirmed but not like she wanted him to stop. So he moved over to the left breast. He could hear her heartbeat, very fast, very excited. He remembered her ex-husband Brian telling him she was like a volcano. He’d wondered what would volcano-ize her. He thought poetry might do it. But this worked, too. Real well, judging from the little gasps and moans she was letting out.  


He realized he was close to finding it hard to stop. So he stopped.  


“So anyway, I think that that’s how the typical male might respond.”  


“I’ll.” She took a moment to try to catch her breath. “I’ll find a way to process that information.”  


“That’s gonna be an interesting graph.”  


She smiled. “Yes.”  


“Well, if you don’t need me for anything else, I’ve got some homework that I ought to—”  


“Oh, before you go, could you tell me what you think of these stockings?”


	2. Chapter 2

That was when he knew he was a goner, and knew that she knew it. They both knew how crazy he was about her legs. So long and so lovely. So, so long to his resistance. He might continue to crumble slowly, but he would crumble, completely and irrevocably. And he couldn’t say that he entirely minded.  


“Hm, are these from your client, too?” He ran his hands along the white mesh stockings.  


“Sort of.”  


“What do you mean sort of?”  


“I think the typical man would want to find out for himself.”  


He grinned. “You’re right.” So he kept moving his hand up her leg and under her knee-length skirt. Until he got to the part where the stockings ended. He felt bare skin and a bit of metal attached to a thin strip of cloth. “The garter belts are from your client?”  


“Right.”  


“Anything else?”  


“Mmm, maybe.”  


He hesitated and then said, “Can you stand up?”  


She laughed. “I’m not sure if I can. I’m a little dizzy right now.”  


“I’ll catch you if you fall.”  


“Thank you, Tony.” She slowly stood up in front of him.  


“Yeah, just like that.” Then he moved both hands under her skirt, one caressing her almost bare upper thighs, and the other going higher and towards the center. Bingo! Soft, skimpy panties with a hint of lace. “Are these pink, too?”  


“Maybe.”  


“I guess the typical man has to find that out for himself, too, huh?”  


“Yes.”  


So he eased down the pale pink panties, leaving her stockings and garters on.  


***  


This was really happening. She was exposed in front of Tony like never before. When she’d stepped out of the tub and into his view five and a half years before, there was nothing sexual about it on her side, no matter what Professor Morell said about it getting her “juices flowing.”  


“Now I want to see what Nature gave you to wear,” Tony said and then he pushed up the front of her skirt. “Molta bella! God, Angela, you’re so—”  


Before she could even say thank you, he was touching her there, lightly and reverently at first, but definitely. First on the edges of where the lace of the panties had been, and then inward.  


“Is this what the typical male would do?” she managed to ask.  


“I’m just representing myself at this point,” he said, and then he cupped her clitoris, making her shiver from head to toe. It stiffened at his touch, as her nipples had done. So often she’d dreamed of this and it was really happening. “And that’s why I’m going to do this.”  


And he moved his head closer and softly kissed her labia.  


“Oh, Tony!” she gasped. She’d always longed for this, but she never wanted to get her hopes up, either that he would like performing cunnilingus or that he would perform it on her.  


He was very, very good, not that she had much to compare it to. He was sweet at first, with tender butterfly kisses. And then when she started moving against his face, he gradually got more intense, till he was sucking her clitoris and fingering her opening. She thought of asking if this didn’t fall under “until, unless,” but maybe it didn’t count as real sex to him.  


It definitely counted as real to her, and it indeed got her juices flowing.  


***  


Mmm, she was delicious. He didn’t do this for every woman he was with. Not that he didn’t like it. He loved it! But he felt like it was a special tribute and should only be done with special women. And there was no question that Angela was special to him.  


He’d had a feeling she’d taste good down there. Her skin and her mouth were so tasty, so why not here? This wasn’t the snack he’d planned on when he came home, but then he wasn’t exactly doing his homework, was he? Well, that could wait. First he was gonna make Angela come.  


He wasn’t going to use his fingers at first, just his mouth, but he couldn’t help wondering how she felt inside. He was going to try not to use his penis that afternoon, but he couldn’t resist a sneak preview.  


Mmm, her pussy was warm and wet! And he knew he was making it warmer and wetter. Which made it all the better to eat. But it also made his cock desperately want a turn inside and he couldn’t allow that. Not when they weren’t married.  


“Oh, Tony!” she cried as she gushed into his mouth, and he knew she was thinking of his cock, although she wouldn’t use that word. Angela Bower would never say, “I want your cock in my cunt,” or anything close to that. But she might think it in indirect language.  


“Tony, I love you!”  


She didn’t say it the way she said it in her sleep two years before. But this time it was a conscious declaration, which they tended to avoid.  


He stopped and fell back on the couch. “Angela, it’s OK. That doesn’t count. I know you’re not thinking clearly right now. It’s my fault for, you know.”  


“Tony, I’ve been wanting to tell you that for two and a half years.”  


He stared at her. “You have?” That was even before her sleep-talk.  


“Yes. And even if you don’t love me that way, I want you to know.”  


“So you were waiting for the right moment to tell me?”  


She laughed. “Can you think of a better one?”  


He shook his head. “Come here, sit next to me.”  


***  


He had given her an orgasm and then kissed it. So after that, admitting she loved him didn’t seem like it was any more of a risk. Even if he didn’t return her feelings, she thought he would be kind to her.  


She sat next to him and he took her hand with the cleaner one of his.  


“You are amazing, you know that?”  


“I am?”  


“Madonna mi! Of course. Angela, I think I’m in love with you, too, which makes this really hard.”  


She couldn’t help it, she lightly put her hand on his crotch and grinned.  


He shook his head. “No, that’s been hard for awhile now.”  


“Because of the lingerie?”  


“Because of what the lingerie was covering up. But I love you in non-physical ways, too. And I don’t want to ruin what we have by jumping into something we’re not ready for.”  


“Tony, we’ve known each other for almost six years. And I’m ready for it.”  


“Yeah, I’ll say you are.”  


She blushed. “I mean emotionally, too.”  


“Look, Angela, I’m happy to pleasure you, but if I take off my pants, that’s going to change everything.”  


“What? Is this a New York thing? You don’t want to get involved?”  


“Well, sort of. If I, um, have pleasure, too, then I’ll feel like we’re more committed.”  


“Then take off your pants.”  


He stared at her. “What?”  


“Tony, we live together. We raise our children together. We cuddle on the couch watching movies. And now you have kissed my vulva.”  


“Angela Bower!” He sounded shocked but also amused, maybe at the way she put it.  


“Well, you have. You gave me unbelievable pleasure. I realize we have no spoken commitment, but I think we have an unspoken one.”  


“Well, I don’t know. I guess that does count as an oral agreement.”  


She smiled. “Yes.”  


“OK, so answer a question for me.”  


“What?”  


“Is there really a lingerie campaign?”  


“Of course. Not that all of this is going on the storyboard.”  


“Good. I don’t think you could get it run anywhere but _Playboy._ Or _Penthouse.”_

“I will use candles, billowing curtains, and other symbols.”  


“Good. But if you’d like me to show you what a typical male would do to his lingerie-wearing fiancée, let me know.”  


“Tony Morton Micelli, that is the worst proposal I’ve ever heard!”  


“Hey, easy with the Morton stuff. And just how many proposals have you heard?”  


“I was counting ones in movies.”  


“Oh. You want me down on one knee?”  


She bit her lip.  


“OK, I think we know the answer to that question. So what’s the answer to the other question?”  


“You haven’t actually asked it yet.”  


“OK, how do you feel about a two-year engagement?”  


“Two-year?”  


“Yeah, that’s how much I’ve got left of college.”  


“Right. Can I have a more romantic proposal?”  


“OK.” Starting at her forehead and kissing lower with every word, he said, “Angela Katherine Robinson Bower, I am crazy about you. I want to marry you, and not just because of ‘until and unless.’ ”  


“Are we still going to wait till we’re married to have sex?”  


“I think there are certain privileges that an engaged couple can have.”  


“Such as?”  


“Nah, you’ve got to say yes before I show you.”  


She hesitated and then said, “OK, yes. I’ll marry you. In two years.”  


“Good. Now I can take off my pants.”  


***  


It felt even better inside her than he had hoped. It was like they were designed for each other. And they were both so primed, these past few years but especially that afternoon, that they easily slid together. And kept sliding, like a Rubik’s cube or some other puzzle that had many possibilities but only one “right” answer. It was fun to twist and turn to find that solution, and even the “wrong” answers felt right.  


Fortunately for them, they had moved up to her room to celebrate their engagement, and had just finished up (Tony’s orgasm also on the volcanic side) when their children came home from high school. Jonathan found some interesting notes and sketches on the coffee table and Sam wondered why there were stray pieces of lingerie stuffed under the sofa cushions, but ever since they had walked in on her father dipping his mother to the tune of “On Broadway,” they had learned not to ask too many questions.  


Angela worked from home the following day as well, and when Tony tore the black teddy, he promised to replace it. This would indirectly end up on Angela’s 1990 tax return and be seen as proof that they were married. When they heard that their innocent visit to South Carolina was stronger proof, they cheerfully bowed to Fate and promptly shortened their engagement to one year.  


And when Tony got Angela something that you slip on which feels soft against your skin, for the seventh anniversary of when they met, it was not seat covers.


End file.
